


Dinner

by walrucifer



Series: Tumblr Prompts [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Porn, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Porn With Plot, Samifer - Freeform, TFL14, Team Fuck Lucifer, This Is STUPID, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walrucifer/pseuds/walrucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Lucifer go to a restaurant. Sex ensues, for whatever reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mind_and_malady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/gifts).



> Prompt: Restaurant (from an OTP-challenge I found on Tumblr).
> 
> 1\. Incredibly enough, I wasn't drunk while writing this, unlike with Unbidden.  
> 2\. Oh the things I can do with bad sex.

Sam leans across the table, staring into Lucifer’s eyes, giddy with pure joy and unbridled love. The Archangel gazes back through frost-kissed cerulean orbs, so soft it nearly makes Sam melt, and places his hand on the brunette’s.  
The scent of freshly cooked Thai food mingles with that of pine resin and chocolate and smoke, an unusual combination, but not necessarily bad. So close to Lucifer, Sam can’t tell which scent he is exuding, that of food or his usual aroma of burning and Winter. Either way, he likes it.  
Somewhere, wine bottles are set on a table with a soft thud, and a _pop_ sounds; then, the homey, enjoyable scent of warmed Sake perfumes the air, and Lucifer flags a waiter down for a bottle of their own. The waiter smiles at them, making Sam blush and look down.  
When the man leaves, Lucifer clasps both Sam’s hands between his own and gazes up at him through pale lashes, eyes molten with affection, and draws Sam’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently. Sam smiles, amused, and uses his other, free hand to lift his teacup to his lips. Lucifer brushes his hand aside, catches the falling cup, and kisses Sam over the rim of it, ignoring the penetrating glares of other guests. Sam grunts, pulls away, and sets the cup down.  
After several uneventful minutes, Lucifer starts humming along to the strains of music issuing from the cheap, but elegant speakers set into the walls.  
The waiter returns, holding a tray of incredible-smelling food, perfectly seasoned, succulent meat in buttery sauce and perfectly steamed vegetables, and giving off a delicate hint of coconut, lemongrass and chili. Sam’s mouth waters at the scent. Lucifer looks bemused, faintly disgusted. Still, when the waiter sets the meal down, he waits until Sam’s speared a piece of beef onto his fork until politely taking a piece of his own and eating it.  
They sit in silence, Lucifer chewing slowly, methodically, Sam nearly inhaling his food. Finally, when Sam’s finished, Lucifer sets his fork down, picks up the chopsticks tentatively, and instantly perfectly takes a piece of meat. Sam’s impressed.  
“Have you ever used chopsticks?” Sam asks, gazing at his angel, who’s busy sliding the sticks around a piece of carrot. Lucifer looks up, eyes softer than down, and nods silently, chewing.  
“This food is awful.” He growls when he’s swallowed and taken a drink. “Why do you eat it?”  
Sam shrugs. “We need to eat, Luce. I guess we also kinda like the flavour.”  
Lucifer nods, more to be polite than anything, and gulps down his glass of water.  
“If I knew how humans eat, I would find something that would keep you nourished and that you liked, even if I had to go to another universe to find it.” Lucifer says, bluntly, and shoves the rest of his food to Sam, who gratefully accepts it and starts shoveling beef and rice and teriyaki sauce into his mouth.  
“And if there’s food like that, I’ll find it and bring it all to you.” Lucifer continues, folding his hands under his chin, gazing up at his boyfriend. Sam smiles, leans forward, kisses his cheek.  
“I’d be happy to accept your food.” He murmurs against pale skin, lips tremoring against Lucifer’s cold, stubble scratching his lips and chin.  
The waiter returns, holding a billfold and a pen, and sets it on the table. Lucifer picks up the pen, scrawls his name in neat cursive in the signature line, and places two twenties on the checkbook. The waiter takes the money, nodding, and scans the receipt- and pales, nearly running away. Sam giggles. Lucifer shrugs and neatly arranges his dishes and cutlery so the waiter has less trouble with them, and tips a ten, elegantly folded into the shape of a swan in three seconds, and takes a notepaper from his pocket. Quickly, he writes a note of apology to the waiter: _I had no wish to scare or disturb you; my sole intention was to take my boyfriend out to dinner, which I hope you’ll understand. I would like to thank you for your hospitality, and, if it’s all the same to you, Sam would like to come back with me. The choice is entirely our own._  
Regards,  
Lucifer.  
Sam proofreads the note, nods approvingly, and sets it in a visible place.  
They leave the restaurant hand-in-hand.

Later, while Sam’s sitting at the dinner table, trying to fold a piece of paper into a swan with Lucifer’s finesse and miserably failing, Lucifer enters, holding a cup of coffee between his hands and occasionally sipping from it. He sits beside Sam, sets his mug down, and gently pries the mutilated paper from the brunette’s hands, corrects folds, creases and tears, and holds out a perfect swan. He snaps, and a tiny lake appears on the table- no more than a puddle, but enough for the miniscule bird. Then he sets the swan into the lake gently, blows on it, and they watch it swim. Sam’s delighted, almost childishly so, and his joy is infectious. Lucifer laughs warmly, face lit up with happiness.  
“It’s beautiful, Lucifer,” Sam praises, grinning like a child, and kisses his boyfriend’s cheek. Lucifer smiles and cups Sam’s face in his hands, pulls him around, and kisses him, for real. It’s spur-of-the-moment and sloppy and unclean, but they don’t care. It’s beautiful, and that makes up for every imperfection.  
Sam can still taste the lingering tang of coffee in Lucifer’s mouth, along with something he can only identify as pine resin (he wonders if Lucifer eats trees, and quickly dismisses it as stupid and irrational), and the clean, cold bite of ice. He doesn’t taste very sweet, not at all, but he tastes good. He tastes real. Sam deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue across the inside of the blonde’s cheek, enjoying Lucifer’s responding whimper. He bites Lucifer’s lip, smiling when the Archangel moans into his mouth, hands tightening in Sam’s hair, pulling him almost impossibly close.  
“I want you,” he whimpers, eyes dark and cloudy with lust, molten pools of cerulean heat, whining when Sam slides a hand under his shirt, nails digging into his chest, drawing blood and Grace, sweat slicking his palm. Sam scoops him up, carries him to the couch, dumps him down unceremoniously, and lays beside him as far as the sofa will allow. He attacks Lucifer’s mouth again, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure leaving the blonde, and Lucifer starts hastily, sloppily unbuttoning his shirt, finally tearing it off impatiently.  
Sam slides out of the offending garment easily, aiding Lucifer, giving him better purchase. The blonde kisses the curve of his throat, tongue sweeping over Sam’s skin in frozen arch, wetting it and sending shudders down Sam’s spine. Lucifer’s teeth graze over the brunette’s skin gently, not biting, almost tickling. Sam whimpers and flinches away; he can’t help it.  
“Sa-am… you look beautiful.” Lucifer moans, breathing hard, biting his lip. Sam pushes him down, tears his shirt off, ripping it into shreds, loving the little mewls the Archangel makes. He slides Lucifer’s jeans down effortlessly (he’s not wearing a belt, for reasons of his own), smiles when the blonde snarls and fists a hand into his hair. When Sam slides the blonde’s boxers off, Lucifer is already achingly hard, breathing ragged and shallow, cock swollen and rock-hard.  
“Hold still.” Sam orders, and Lucifer whines and keens, reaches a hand down to touch himself. Sam grabs his hand, shaking his head, and holds it.  
“Not yet, angel.” He whispers against Lucifer’s stomach, making the blonde moan softly. “I’ll let you touch yourself in a moment.”  
Lucifer nods, barely coherent. Sam dips his head forward, gazes up at him, eyes golden and burning, lashes long and lips pink and breath ragged, and Lucifer whines and grips into his hair again. The sudden addition of pressure from Sam’s tongue and lips on his dick makes him yelp and buck his hips up, whining, keening, breath coming in stutters as Sam sucks him off. Sam grins against his skin, laps up once, and kitten-licks away the drops Lucifer is leaking. The blonde snarls, fingers tightening in Sam’s hair, and arches his back, mewling.  
“Turn over,” Sam breathes, kisses his boyfriend’s chest. Lucifer whimpers, panting, and falls over onto his side. Supposing this will work as well, Sam kisses his neck, holds two fingers in front of his face, and murmurs, “Suck.”  
Lucifer complies, mouth closing around Sam’s fingers, tongue slicking them and coating them in saliva. Sam gently traces his fingernail over the edge of his boyfriend’s lips, slides them out with a faint _pop_. Lucifer hisses and licks his lips. Sam kisses down is neck distractingly and uses the temporarily unaware Archangel to slide his fingers into his entrance, enjoying the mewling yelp Lucifer makes, small, wrecked whimpers and moan leaving him, back arched, core clenched.  
Whining, Lucifer reaches down his hand again; Sam catches his wrist, holds it, and places it beside his shoulder, and does exactly what he won’t let Lucifer do himself. Slowly, maddeningly carefully, he strokes over the blonde’s length, thumbing over the head, making him whine and moan gutturally, eyelids fluttering, jaw slightly slack, muscles clenched and head tossed back.  
“You’re so pretty like this,” Sam murmurs, enjoying Lucifer responding mewl, and kisses his jaw. “And you’re all mine. Only mine. Isn’t that right?”  
Lucifer whines, nodding, and bites his lip to keep from crying out as Sam slides inside him, rough and overeager and not at all gentle, hands gripping into the short, messy mane of hair.  
“Whose are you?” Sam snarls at him, breath hot in his ear. Lucifer whimpers and hisses as Sam ruts into him, hips snapping against his back, hitting his prostrate with painful efficiency, making him whimper and keen and moan, and he mewls a small, “Yours”.  
“Damn right you are,” Sam replies, breathing strained, and slams into him a few more times.  
Lucifer whines and hisses and mewls and moans, but he doesn’t cry out; he won’t give Sam that. A few more hits, Sam’s hand lingering on his dick, and he loses himself, comes with a wrecked cry, riding the impossibly high wave of bliss Sam has helped him climb. When he comes to, his vision swims and blurs, and he has the feeling that his heart is _vibrating_. It’s incredible.  
Sam slides out of him, turns him around, brushes a short swathe of blonde out of his forehead, resting his forehead on Lucifer’s, noses bumping, and kisses him.  
“I love you, angel.” Sam breathes, crawls down, snuggles against the blonde’s chest, listening to the harsh snarl of Lucifer’s breathing and the rapid thrum of his heart. Small, satisfied purrs leave Lucifer as Sam holds him, tight, one hand reached up and stroking his hair, whispering sweet nothings against his skin and kissing the pale cool lightly.  
They lay in silence awhile, curled together like cats, half-asleep.  
After several minutes, Lucifer taps Sam’s shoulder carefully, looking down at him demandingly.  
“Yes, babe?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised, looking up at him.  
“I want to try Chinese food.” Lucifer demands.

**Author's Note:**

> For Kaitlyn, because I love you and you deserve this. I still didn't deserve all the other things you made for me. I love you. We'll get matching white-gold filligree, inset with diamonds and sapphires, and I get the suit because I look fabulous in men's clothes.


End file.
